Horus studied the *Codex Astartes* intently, alongside its supplementary volume, *Archives and History of the Chapters*.
Whenever he encountered something unfamiliar, he even humbly asked Cullen for clarification.
To the old knight, this was almost unbelievable—a Primarch asking an Astartes for guidance?
Yet Cullen accepted with pleasure, filling in the historical details that the Wolf God did not know.
Of course, Cullen did not know everything either.
He had spent most of his time on the run, rarely paying attention to the affairs of Astartes Chapters, so he could only offer personal accounts based on the few Chapters he had encountered.
Horus synthesized Cullen’s insights with the records in the books and his own thoughts.
After about half a day, Horus finally surfaced from the Codex and archives.
A Primarch’s reading and comprehension speed far exceeded that of a mortal.
The Wolf God had long since read through the entire Codex; the rest of his time was spent studying the histories and files of the various Astartes Chapters.
“I must admit, my brother is a genius,” Horus marveled.
Through the Codex, he could see his brother Guilliman’s vision for reorganizing the military forces of the Imperium of Man after the Horus Heresy, particularly the unified theory he established for the moral codes, battle orders, and tactical doctrines of the Space Marines.
*That is classic Guilliman,* he thought.
During the Great Crusade, although the Ultramarines Legion was not as adept at surprise attacks and on-the-spot improvisation as his own Luna Wolves, they could always advance steadily through their seamless, highly systematic tactics.
As long as the enemy failed to completely crush them in the initial clash, they would quickly dismantle the enemy’s tactics, drag you into their flawless rhythm, and make victory impossible.
Kaelen leaned over.
“Actually, when this book first came out, not all the loyalist Primarchs favored it—especially Rogal Dorn and Leman Russ.” “And after all the Primarchs vanished and Guilliman was placed in a stasis field, the book gradually turned dogmatic and rigid.
Privately, it gained a nickname: toilet paper.” Horus nodded slightly, a spark of understanding flashing in his eyes.
He naturally understood the tragedy behind that jest.
No matter how sound a theory was, if it could not adapt flexibly to changing eras and battlefields, it would eventually turn from a guide for warriors into a chain constraining their potential.
“Still, I must admit that this Codex raises the baseline exceptionally high.
It’s especially friendly to newly created Chapters, encompassing virtually every aspect of army building, combat operations, and logistics, allowing a new Chapter to rise quickly and healthily.
“Had I been in my days as Warmaster, I might not have shared such a prized system without reservation with all my brothers and Legions.
But Roboute’s design provides a foundational floor for all Astartes, and he laid it out completely unreservedly.
In terms of breadth of mind, I am humbled.
“He did what I realized back then, yet could never bring myself to do.” “What was that?” “Warlordism.” Cullen suddenly interjected, “Every Primarch, besides the Legion under their command, had countlessly bound Imperial allies—Forge Worlds, Titan Legions, Knight Houses, and tens of thousands of mortal auxiliary units.
“For Primarchs and Legions who swore sole allegiance to Terra and the Emperor, that was fine.
But fundamentally, this system lacked effective oversight and restraint!
The Horus Heresy is the ultimate proof.” Hearing this, Kaelen understood instantly.
The Emperor was the supreme sovereign, while the Primarchs were feudal lords holding massive armies.
The only reason the Imperium didn’t implode during the Great Crusade was that external enemies deflected internal conflicts and focus.
Once the Great Crusade ended and no common enemy remained, the accumulated internal tensions and ambitions were bound to explode into chaos.
Coupled with the distinct, stark personality flaws of each Primarch…
the rebellion was almost inevitable.
“Cullen is right.
The Codex truly constrained and monitored the power of the Astartes to a large extent.” Horus tapped his fingertips against the cover of the dossier, his tone darkening slightly.
“However, judging from the Chapter histories and dossiers I just read, the rigidity of the Codex not only robbed tactics of flexibility, but failed to stop Chapters from repeatedly getting dragged into the Imperium’s political infighting.
“That is hardly a good thing.
It only weakens the combat effectiveness of the Astartes for nothing, giving newly emerging xenos, re-awakened ancient xenos, and traitor forces openings to exploit.” Horus carefully stowed the Codex and dossiers into his personal pouch.
Kaelen noticed this.
He wondered what was going through the Wolf God’s mind.
As a strategist, was he thinking about what reforms he would make if he took over a Chapter?
Or did he still harbor ambition, attempting to use his brother’s theories to forge a brand-new faction of his own?
Horus noticed Kaelen’s gaze and guessed his thoughts; the Wolf God merely chuckled and shook his head.
“Do not overthink it, my friend.
Even if my Father and my brothers forgive me, I will never take power again.” Horus paused for a few seconds before adding, “Sometimes, being a specialized tool is quite fine.
You don’t have to overthink things.
Like a brick—wherever you’re needed, that’s where you go.” Cullen merely snorted at this statement; he didn’t fully trust the Wolf God.
Yet hearing this spoken aloud proved that the Wolf God had abandoned a great deal—obsessions, struggles, and…
ambition.
“Don’t be so negative, Horus.
I think there’s plenty you can actually do.
Your brothers need your help.” Kaelen wanted to pat Horus on the shoulder like a brother.
But the height difference between a mortal and a Primarch was truly poignant; even standing on tiptoes, Kaelen couldn’t reach.
Seeing this, Horus crouched down, surprising Cullen.
He had not expected the Wolf God to value this mortal to such an extent.
A Primarch willingly casting aside his innate majesty just to accommodate a mortal—a posture Cullen had never seen on any Primarch, save for when they met the Emperor.
“Don’t constantly carry a mindset of seeking redemption.
That only puts pressure on yourself.
Just keep a calm mind.
The Lupercal I remember was always so confident.
Just view it as aiding the future and sharing the burden for your Primarch brothers.” Kaelen patted Horus on the shoulder.
The Wolf God did not mind.
On the contrary, it reminded him of his regret on his homeworld of Cthonia, where no gang members ever befriended him.
When he was a mortal, he had no friends; ironically, after becoming a Primarch, he had many “friends.” With that, Kaelen held out a fist, gesturing for Horus to bump it.
A genuine smile appeared on the Wolf God’s face.
A small fist and a massive fist gently bumped together.
Kaelen turned to Cullen.
“How about you?” “Absurd,” the old knight grunted, turning his head away.
“Hey, suit yourself.
It’s not like I’m begging you.” Kaelen shook his head.
Watching the scene, Horus was amused.
“Alright, gentlemen, small talk’s over.” Kaelen clapped his hands.
“Next, we should discuss our plan and overall strategy once we reach Cadia.”